Ashes to Ashes
by Yeet Yoot Noot
Summary: Oshiro Masayuki never takes initiative. He hopes to eventually do what he wants, but never makes plans. He hopes love will find him, but does not look for it. He hopes to live a long, happy life; like many others, he learns that death waits for no one.
1. The Day of Reckoning

**Special Thanks to My Beta Readers: Jazeoth 2.0 and Rhavia!**

As he made his daily commute in his luxury car, Oshiro Masayuki found himself drawing small mindless doodles onto the foggy windows. He watched as the rain pelted his window, captivated by the streaks running past his fingertips that made the window cool to the touch. He spent many mornings like this- riding silently in the backseat as his car cut through the cold rains of spring. In its own right, it was comforting to have everything be the same every day. There were no surprises in Masayuki's life, and that was just how he liked it. He knew life wouldn't always be like that, of course, and he knew that he wanted to do something exciting when he got out of school, but those plans would have to wait until he had a job, and a house, and was financially stable, and—

Masayuki lurched forward with sudden inertia, his textbooks thrown out of his lap, and the only thing holding him in place was his seatbelt that locked, holding him tightly in place. Catching his breath and grabbing the seat in front of him to stabilize himself, he frantically looked to his driver for an explanation.

"Sorry, Oshiro-sama! Just a wayward driver is all. Are you alright back there?" His driver called back over his shoulder, concerned over the young master's comfort.

After a pause, Masayuki finally calmed himself and struggled with his seatbelt as he attempted to pick up his textbooks with shaky hands.

"Yes, I'm alright. My books just fell everywhere…" He re-buckled his seatbelt and readjusted his glasses. Adjusting his tie and floral pocket handkerchief, he checked his reflection in the rearview mirror. With a fleeting, shaky sigh, he found himself displeased with how abruptly the calm of the road was taken away from him. He hated how most people drove and was glad he didn't have to take the wheel. Whether it was rain or fog, somehow the absence of complete sunshine caused the worst drivers in Japan to surface.

"Does no one know how to drive in the rain?" He grumbled, looking back out of his window with a renewed sense of disinterest.

.

.

.

Masayuki shuffled down the hallway, adjusting the textbooks in his arms to avoid making his arms cramp as he made his way down the grand hallways of Ouran Academy. It was always a hassle to get to his classes as they were so far away from the front entrance where all the students were dropped off.

"Yuki-chan! How is the world's cutest gardner doing today?" The familiar voice of Taniguchi Makoto called.

Makoto was the only person that Masayuki could consider to be his closest friend, despite the fact he was clearly _not_ Makoto's closest friend. Rather, Makoto thought that he was an adorable pet, and made a point of complimenting him upon every meeting to show it. They had met when Masayuki briefly toured sports teams and clubs as a means of finding his interests (and attempted to make friends). Dancing, much to Makoto's dismay, was not the sport for Masayuki. However, the two still bonded over their mutual love of old books, foreign films, and classical music. Makoto was also the one who helped Masayuki come to terms with his..."alternative lifestyle," as his step-father would put it.

"Good morning, Mako-san! I'm quite well, how about you?" Masayuki grinned as his friend caught up with him.

"I'm well enough, thanks. How's the garden?"

Immediately, Masayuki's face lit up. His garden, his pride and joy, always brought a smile to his face when he talked about it. It was the only thing he could actively control, and the payoff was always there as he looked upon it. He could talk for hours about his plans for his garden, and the very thought of future plans for it excited him.

"Ah—it's fantastic. I got these new flowers—English Bluebells—and they are taking to the soil so _well_ and _also_ work with the whole "cool period" I'm going for. I'm also mixing in some—"

"Listen Yuki-chan, as much as I'd love to hear about all of the plans for your garden, I have important news to tell you," Makoto interjected. If Masayuki wasn't stopped early on, he would rattle off until the end of time about his garden. The phrase "important news" made his stomach drop. When left to anticipate events, Masayuki always found himself so anxious he didn't know what to do with himself—however, the phrase "important news" was familiar to him, and always meant trouble.

"Oh no… Mako-san please tell me you didn't—!"

"I got you a date!"

At this point, Masayuki felt like Makoto's test subject for his own possible partners. He knew Makoto had good intentions, but it felt more like being told by your mother to "go make friends" so she could flirt with the single dads at the playground. Masayuki never enjoyed the dates that Makoto would set up for him—it felt like the guys that he was set up with were forced into something as part of a bet.

Given that Makoto was the most popular gay guy in the entire school, and was a very dominating figure, the assumption probably wasn't too far off from the truth.

Granted, Masayuki did want to find someone. It wasn't like he didn't want a boyfriend to be sickeningly sweet to—he just wanted guys to come to him of their own volition. Of course, that wasn't accounting for the fact that Masayuki still wasn't out to his mother and step-father. Like many of his plans for the future, he would do what he wanted when school was over and he had his life settled. For now, Masayuki just had to dodge the awful dates he was set up on.

"Try not to look like I just shot your dog, Yuki-chan. I'm doing you a favor," Makoto chided, not missing the disdain on Masayuki's face, he just chose to ignore it.

"I'm not sure… I mean, even after the last one?"

"That was a fluke and you—!" Makoto's sentence was cut off as the bell rang. The teacher entered the classroom and the class of 3A began to take their seats. Talking about the last date always opened up a can of worms between the two, so Masayuki was grateful for the interruption.

"I'll talk to you after the test, Yuki-chan."

Suddenly, Masayuki remembered. He had forgotten all about the test—he had even forgotten to study for it. He paled as he sat numb in his chair, and felt as if a giant weight had been placed on his chest. He spaced out, contemplating on whether or not he was going to have a heart attack. Maybe he should ask to go to the nurse...

"Hey, relax. It's not going to kill you," Makoto whispered. Masayuki felt _highly_ doubtful of that statement as he stared at his calculus test, not taking in any of the information from the wall of text. Frankly, it was like staring down the barrel of the gun. Biting the inside of his lip, he racked his brain for the bits of his notes and homework that he could remember and hunkered down for the worst test of his life.

.

.

.

The rest of the his day passed by in a blur. Lunch was uneventful, with the same friendly bickering he always had with Makoto. His classes were unengaging—even Japanese History, his favorite subject, was weighed down by Masayuki's own self pity for his failure. The weight was only lifted at the end of the day, during club hours. He was the president of the Gardening Club, and was a seasoned expert in taking care of various plants.

As everyone settled on the plants they were responsible for that week, the many friend groups within the club sectioned off, leaving Masayuki to himself. He zoned out as he prepared the potting soil for his tulips. He had high hopes for the next year's spring blooms, and wanted to avoid the mistakes he had made in the year prior. As he let himself slip into his rhythm, the rest of the club seemed to fade away. He hadn't even noticed the commotion on the other side of the greenhouse. The unmistakable voice of Sasaki Aiko, his vice president, reached his ears as she called to him from across the greenhouse. She hurriedly jogged to him, looking nervous.

"Oshiro-senpai!"

"Ah, Sasaki-san. How are you?" Masayuki turned to her, smiling as he greeted her.

"Oh, I'm good thanks for asking," Sasaki greeted him with a shallow bow. She seemed to remember her sense of urgency as she snapped straight up. "I need your help—the snapdragons my group are tending to look concerning, could you please give me your opinion on them?"

He nodded and followed her over to the snapdragons. The plants were... drooping. The leaves were saggy and discolored, looking sad and—more concerningly—sick. He inspected one of the bunches, before lightly tugging on the base and found that they came out with ease—always a bad sign. The other members of Sasaki's group watched in horror as he pulled on the plant, as he usually refrained from such rough treatment. The vice-president began to protest but was silenced by the sight of blackened roots.

"Shit, that's what I thought it was. Those—" he gestured to the blackened areas— "are root rots. You can't fix that, only take out the infected plants. Looks like it's been cultivating over our brief break last week. This usually comes from being mishandled and put in contaminated soil and since the greenhouse is warm and humid, it's practically a breeding ground for bacteria."

Sasaki inspected the roots with a sad look on her face, as though she were empathizing with the sickly plant.

"We'll have to remove it, drain the soil, and make sure the other plants aren't also infected."

The statement alarmed Sasaki—because while she knew a lot about plants, she wasn't as experienced as the President in diseases. Masayuki empathized with her—he knew how frustrating it was to nurture something, only to see it grow and die from something so preventable.

"Remove it? But I've been working on this for the whole school year!"

Masayuki sighed and rubbed the back of his neck. It was always tiring to deal with rots, but he partially blamed himself for not seeing the sickness earlier on. He wasn't that great at reassuring people, and he searched for words to say that might make her feel better.

"Well, um…that's the risk of gardening, Saki-san. Even if you're extra careful, you always run the risk of losing it all. Kinda like life, you know? You just have to start over and hope you don't lose it all again."

 _That... sounded much more depressing than I intended._

"Ah… I just wish it didn't feel so helpless," she sighed. Masayuki bumped shoulders with her, offering a small smile in reassurance.

"Well, now we can learn from it. The warning signs are always there and we can make sure the other plants stay healthy by giving them new soil. There's always time to start fresh, and we saved the other plants before they became infected as well."

That seemed to make her feel slightly better and she offered a small smile with a returned shoulder bump. Masayuki turned and saw that the rest of the club was watching the exchange. He flushed, slightly embarrassed that everyone was watching him so intently. He awkwardly glanced at his watch and noted that it was around 10 minutes until club hours were over.

"Alright everyone, we need to wrap this up for today. Can I get some volunteers to help me remove the rest of the infected plants while the rest of you pack up and clean?"

Masayuki gathered a small group of underclassmen and cleared out the diseased plants while Sasaki and the rest organized the tools, put away the potting soil, and swept the aisles. Weeds and infected plants were thrown into the waste, and locked away to avoid contaminating the rest of the greenhouse. The students all hung up their aprons and changed back into their uniforms. Masayuki was the last to leave, locking up all the tools as well as the front door to the greenhouse. He turned, finding Sasaki waiting for him as usual. The two walked together in comfortable silence to the front of the school.

It was no wonder on why many students gave them odd looks— Masayuki always had a soft spot for his friend and prodigy. He knew that once he graduated, he'd be leaving the Gardening Club in good hands. He also wasn't exactly in a space to tell the rest of his classmates he was gay, so his closeness with Sasaki would just have to continue to look like a crush. He did hope that Sasaki wasn't going to be upset by that, but from what he had seen she wasn't the type for romance.

As the two arrived to the front gates, Masayuki noticed that his car had arrived, with his bodyguard standing outside it. His bodyguard, Yamashita Daisuke, was a mountain of a man. Masayuki had known him since his mother got remarried, and he always rode home with him after school. He was a comforting figure, but wasn't always the best with kids.

"I, uh... I'll see you Wednesday, Oshi-senpai," Sasaki stuttered as she turned to him, and politely bowed.

"See you, Saki-san," Masayuki replied, waving as he climbed into the back seat of his luxury car.

"Good afternoon, Oshiro-sama. Please buckle in your seatbelt," Yamashita greeted before he closed the door of the backseat. Yamashita took shotgun and, once he confirmed that Masayuki had actually put his seatbelt on, he motioned for the driver to take them home.

"How was school?" Yamashita turned his head, calling behind him to the young master. It was the same old questions, with the same old answers, but he'd ask anyways.

"Same as always, Yamashita-san. Could you move your seat forward a little?" Masayuki stared, slightly miffed that his knees were being crushed by the seat in front of him. He lightly kicked the back of Yamashita's seat, accentuating his point.

"I cannot. My legs are too long."

"That's what you say, but I know they aren't 2 meters in length!" Yamashita chuckled at the young master's annoyance and moved his seat forward slightly. Even the inch of room given to him was a relief, and he ceased kicking his bodyguard's seat.

"How was the calculus test?" _Ah_. _So that's what today is going to be like_. Masayuki slumped further into his seat, avoiding Yamashita's question. His silence was an answer in its own right, and Yamashita turned to address him face to face. He was fairly gentle when talking to Masayuki, but he was still a very intimidating man.

"Your parents are concerned about your grades, Oshiro-sama," he commented, a stern look on his face as he spoke to the young master. Masayuki avoided meeting his piercing eyes and crossed his arms as he lightly hugged himself. He wanted to explain that he had forgotten, he wanted to tell Yamashita that he didn't understand anything in that class anyway and that he felt as though he would never succeed in it.

He couldn't find the words.

"I know, it's just—"

Then it hit.

The only warning that the two got was the quick gasp from the driver a millisecond before the front of the vehicle slammed into an oncoming car, throwing the passengers forward. Yamashita's neck snapped back in a way that it was not supposed to, and Masayuki's knee was sent with incredible force into the hard plastic back of his bodyguard's seat. His seatbelt gripped him, squeezing the breath out of him as he was forced forwards, and it painfully held his hips in place. The car screeched across the road, hit from behind by cars that were unable to stop in time.

And it was over just as quickly as it began.

.

.

.

 _By the sweat of your brow you will eat your_

 _food until you return to the ground,_

 _since from it you were taken;_

 _for dust you are and to dust you will return._

 **Genesis 3**


	2. Beyond the Veil

**Special Thanks to My Beta Readers: Jazeoth 2.0 and Rhavia!**

He was back in his car. The door had just closed, and his bodyguard got into his seat. Had nothing really happened?

Masayuki feels no control—he wants to ask what's going on, but he is nothing but a spectator to an event he is a part of. Dread looms over him as the car began to speed along the roads of Ouran. Did they always drive so fast?

 _Please stop the car!_

He tries to warn the other passengers, but to no avail. His cry comes out as a faint whisper and falls on deaf ears.

" _How was the calculus test?"_

The headlights of an oncoming car nearly blind Masayuki, but his vision of Yamashita turning to face him is unimpeded. He tries to scream, but it comes out as silently as his prior attempt.

 _Yamashita-san! Turn around, please!_

The first car hits, and suddenly his world moves in slow motion. Yamashita's neck slowly snaps back at an unnatural angle and for a moment it's all Masayuki can focus on. He wants to look away, but he remains trapped in his own body. And then time stops. Broken glass suspends itself in mid-air as the airbags pause in deployment, but Yamashita continues to move closer and closer to Masayuki. His lungs are crushed, pinned by the force of his momentum against the seatbelt.

 _I can't breathe. It hurts! I can't breathe!_

He claws at the seatbelt, trying to find refuge from the pain.

 _Make it stop! Please, stop!_

Yamashita stares at Masayuki, eyes lifeless. Black ooze pours from his mouth as he leans forward, breathing ragged. His breath smells of bleach and disinfectant. He rasps in his gravelly voice, _"Wake up, Oshiro-sama."_

 _._

 _._

 _._

Masayuki jolted from his sleep, his breathing heavy and pained. He frantically searched the room, unable to focus on any one object as he tried to take in the foreign location. One of the nurses was attempting to get his attention by holding his shoulders gently. He cried out, unable to stop himself with each sharp stab he felt in his ribs.

"Sir! You're alright. You're in a hospital. You're safe."

He doesn't even begin to understand what was happening. His sobs shortened into quick bursts and he began hyperventilating from the pain, making it worse.

"I can't… it _hurts…_ "

"What hurts? Is it your leg?" The nurse calmly looked to Masayuki's leg and his IV, careful to avoid frightening the young man further with her underlying concern.

Masayuki grimaces and he continues to sob, his throat burning from the tears, "… can't breathe… hurts…"

"Your ribs are still healing. I'll adjust your pain medication, but please try to control your breathing. Slow breaths, _please_." The unnamed nurse adjusted his IV drip and attempted to guide him through his breathing, which he had difficulty following.

"In… out… in… out…"

His sobs died down more as he focused on the nurse. Now that he could see her clearly, he felt a lot better about the odd figure softly holding his shoulders. His pain diffused, and after a few minutes of guided breathing, he forgot what about the dream was so upsetting. Like a steady beam of light burning through the fog of his dreams, she relieved him of his terror. Something about the pain medication also made it a _lot_ harder to concentrate.

"Is that better?"

Masayuki didn't know how to say just how much better it felt, so he nodded.

"Okay. I'll let your parents know you're awake, alright?"

He nodded again, but was slightly unsure what calling his parents on the phone was going to do.

In what seemed to be an instant, he sees what he _thinks_ is his mother in the doorway. How did she get there so fast? She hugged him, tears in her eyes—he hadn't seen her cry in so long, he mistook her sobbing for laughter at first. His mother was a proud woman, who avoided showing weakness unless necessary. After all, she was Oshiro Mai, the President of Monorisu Bancorp. Her stony facade was practically genetic, most attributed to Masayuki's grandfather— Maemoto Kiyoshi, founder of Monorisu. Although she was more affectionate behind closed doors, it was extremely unlike her to react like this. It was almost frightening, but Masayuki was so dazed he could barely figure out which way was up.

"I'm so glad you're alright."

Mai's grip tightened for a moment as she kissed his forehead, like she was afraid if she loosened up he'd slip away forever. His hand, though very weak, lightly rested on her arm as a return to the hug. She lingered, her face in the crook of his neck, as she quietly wept in happiness. After a moment, she composed herself, straightening up as she wiped away her tears. She took the seat next to him, anchoring herself by grabbing his hand. Masayuki wished he could smile for her but he couldn't find the energy to do so.

"You're going to be okay, Yuki. Everything's going to be okay."

 _I hope so, Mom._

.

.

.

It was dark in Masayuki's room. Sterile. White. Uncomfortable.

The smell of disinfectant was suffocating. He was in a state of between sleep and wake, able to comprehend his surroundings and yet completely immobile— like a sentient rock. He overheard the murmurs of his mother and step-father, as well as another man—whom he could only place as medical staff. Masayuki strained his ears to catch what they were talking about—he could only make out the man's voice, as he talked much louder than necessary.

"He fractured his kneecap as well as his pelvis. There's also bruising on his ribcage from the seatbelt— fairly common injuries from car accidents. Nothing too complicated for us to handle, but he does need surgery on his knee later today. Other than that, there are some minor lacerations on his face that we've already stitched up."

Like the ghost of an old nightmare, the memory of pain shooting up his leg came back to him. How had he forgotten? He must've been drugged up long enough to keep his mind off of it.

"Yes, he will be able to walk. He may experience chronic pain later on, though that all depends on how the bone heals. If he has too much trouble with his knee, it might become necessary to get it replaced in the future."

He let it sink in as he stared into the void of a dark corner. Tears welled up in his eyes, but he couldn't quite place why. He was alive—shouldn't he be thankful?

"He'll need physical therapy as soon as possible to retain movement in his hips, and he will need crutches for around a month to alleviate the pressure on his knee."

God, why did it have to be him? Why did _he_ have to be like this? He hoped that other driver _died_ for—no, that was too far. He couldn't bring himself to wish death upon someone, but boy did he want someone to pay. Masayuki wanted justice, not only for himself but for Yamashita.

"We'll keep him for one more night, and he'll be able to check out tomorrow morning."

 _What if it happens again?_

.

.

.

Much like in his dream the night before, he was suddenly leaving the hospital, headed for the luxury car that he had been in before—how had it survived? The image of Yamashita's snapped neck came to mind and he reeled back, wanting to get as far away from the car as possible.

 _No! Please, no!_

A hand came down on his shoulder, and he could feel the pain spike in his ribs as he began to hyperventilate.

" _Sir, you need to calm down or you'll hurt your ribs."_

Who was that? He didn't care. They wanted him to go back in!

" _What's wrong, Yuki? Are you hurt?"_

He felt hot tears pour down his face as he kicked his good leg out, pushing away the car. The voices continued, and he struggled out of the wheelchair so as to get further away. The hands grabbed him again and his hips cried out in pain from the pressure of his own weight.

 _Please, don't make me go back!_

" _Sir, please sit down!"_

" _Nothing is going to happen, Yuki, I promise."_

More hands. More touching. More forcing. Fuck promises! They were going to put him in that death trap and kill him!

" _You weren't there! I'll die if I go back!_ "

He struggled more against the hands, roughly shoving them away.

" _Sedate him, now!_ "

A sharp pain hit him, and he felt the world fade away. He resisted as long as he could, but to no avail.

 _...important that he's healed both physically and emotionally—victims of crashes often show signs of depression and anxiety..._

 _Your son will get through this._

.

.

.

Masayuki had woken up that afternoon, safe and sound in his home. He was wheeled into the dining room to eat dinner alongside the rest of his family. The room was large, and yet barely anyone occupied it. He sat stiffly in his wheelchair across the table from his pristine and perfect half-sisters. His mother was placed at one end of the large table, his stepfather at the other. Only the sounds of clinking silverware and a ticking clock pierced the silence that hung over the family. Masayuki stared silently at his food, almost as if he was waiting for it to take a bite out of him.

"Yuki, please eat your food. You need to keep your strength up," his mother quietly chided, and he slowly came out of his daze. He looked at his mother sluggishly, ignoring her request.

"...Mom?" It was the first time he had talked since he had woken up that afternoon. The rest of the family quietly watched the exchange.

"Yes, Yuki?" Mai returned her son's gaze, but found that his eyes were… different. He always had a shy, apprehensive look about him, but he looked at her with cloudy, emotionless eyes. Maybe it was the medication?

"How is Yamashita-san?"

The question took Mai aback, and the silence of the room stuck to her lungs like tar. She approached the question with a certain detachment she usually reserved for clients, as she found no other way to force out an answer.

"He's… still in the hospital with a neck injury."

Her son looked back down at his food, poking different pieces with complete disinterest. "Is he going to come back soon?"

Mai sighed,"I don't know. He hasn't woken up yet."

The true weight of her statement hit him like a ton of bricks. She glanced to her own plate, then back at her son. _Why did everything have to change so fast?_

Masayuki felt like the floor had fallen from underneath him. He was trapped in his own thoughts, unable to express them as he stared blankly into the cold food in front of him. _How can she look at me the same? It's my fault. If I had replied he wouldn't have turned to speak to me. If I wasn't such a failure he would be here._ Masayuki could feel his stomach turning, and knew he would throw up if it hadn't already been empty. He stared, unmoving, at his plate. All he could see was Yamashita's dark eyes. Why couldn't he stop thinking about it? It was like he was stuck, frozen in one spot, and his brain could only think about the accident.

 _It's my fault. It's my fault. It's my fault. It's my fault. It's my fault. It's my fault. It's my fault._

When did it get so quiet? He wondered if everyone was looking at him. Did they know he was the cause, and they just didn't want to say anything? He was the problem, he decided, and promptly backed up his wheelchair. If he left, they'd be able to have a normal dinner and could pretend the elephant in the room hadn't been there at all.

"Please excuse me."

"Yuki, where are you going?" Mai glanced at him, then her husband, hesitant to ask.

"I'm going to bed," he slowed down to address his mother—he had already turned his wheelchair, starting for the door.

"But it's so early! Why don't you stay for dessert?" She was pleading for him to stay, and he knew if he turned to look at her he wouldn't be able to resist. It was almost impossible to refuse her requests when she gave him _the look_ , and with how much pain he had already put her through he almost caved. This was for her own good.

"No, thank you, I'm full. Goodnight, everyone." Masayuki regretted ever causing such a mess. He silently pushed himself out of the room, eyes downcast, refusing help from his maid until absolutely necessary.

.

.

.

Masayuki sat silently on his bed, checking his email with his laptop at his side as he avoided looking at his wheelchair. If he didn't look, he didn't have to acknowledge its existence, and he could be living his normal life. There was a knock at his door; one of his maids poked her head in and announced herself.

"Oshiro-sama, you have a visitor." She opened the door to reveal the guest, Makoto. He was the only one to visit in the days after his release, or at least the only one to come to visit him in person. There was only so much support you could glean from a bouquet of flowers and a 'Get Well Soon!' balloon. It also appeared that his friend came bearing gifts to make up for not showing up sooner.

"Yuki-chan?"

Makoto slowly entered the room as the maid closed the door behind him. He barely made out the appearance of Masayuki in the darkness, the small bandages on his face dimly lit by his computer screen. He looked hollow, like a husk of the man Makoto had spoken to only days prior.

"Hi, Mako-san…"

Masayuki quietly placed his computer on his bedside table, and Makoto stood hovering next to the bed, hesitating to take a seat on it. With how odd he was acting, you'd think they'd never been to each other's houses.

"I brought over the work you missed this week, and also some American movies I know you like…" Makoto trailed off as he unpacked the small bag he was carrying, placing textbooks in one pile and movies in another. He silently stared at the piles, before meeting Masayuki's stare with a gentle glance. "How are you doing, Yuki-chan?"

"How do you _think_ I'm doing? And could you drop the 'chan'? I'm not a little kid anymore." Masayuki wasn't sure how such an innocent phrase could make his blood boil so quickly. Regret immediately sunk deep in his stomach. He looked away, ashamed for treating his friend in such a fashion. "Sorry… I shouldn't have snapped at you like that."

"It's okay, Yuki-san, you have every right to be upset." The shock on Makoto's face wore off, and he gave his friend a sad smile. Masayuki hated the look.

"I'm just so… It's all so… pointless. I could have easily died in that crash, but now I'm fucking _stuck_ like this. I'm trapped. And I'm being treated like a goddamn _baby_ for it. I just want to go back to the way things were but I _can't do it_. I can't put on my own clothes, I can't even _get in the shower_ without..."

Makoto wanted to say something, but thought of nothing. He partially understood why Masayuki had snapped. He was being treated like he was made of tissue paper, and Makoto was now patronizing him like everyone else.

"My parents are trying to make things more normal for me; I guess I was expecting something better to come back to—they're putting me back in school next week. 'Sorry you almost died! Now get back to work.' What a fucking joke it all is. No one cares."

Makoto grabbed Masayuki by the shoulders—not some featherlight touch, but a firm grip to get the young man's attention. He didn't want to be babied, after all. Makoto looked his friend in the eyes with an expression that Masayuki had never seen on his face.

"Yuki, do _not_ say things like that. _I_ care. _Your family_ cares. Don't you _ever_ tell me no one cares when I'm sitting right here!" Searching Makoto's face for pity, Masayuki found none. Did he really believe that?

"Your parents are just trying to get you back to what you're used to doing. It'll be good for you to get back into a routine again, you'll see. You'll get back to your garden, and your friends. You won't be too far behind us in class! I can help you catch up on your assignments, and it'll be like normal. It's okay to be angry. It's okay to feel bad. Just… remember we're all trying to help, even if we mess up."

Makoto _couldn't_ understand—nothing would be the same again. Masayuki hated how much he had cried already and how dumb he probably looked, but he couldn't stop himself.

"They're gonna put me in a brace… said my leg might not work the same way that it used to—that I might need a cane later on… 'cause of my hip." Masayuki tried to turn away so as not to embarrass himself further, only to be tugged into a light hug. He wanted to pull away, but his limbs felt like they were made of lead.

"We're gonna get through this, Yuki. I'll be right here with you." Masayuki hid his face in Makoto's shoulder, not wanting to give away that he was crying more. He mumbled something from the hold, before being let out of the awkward position so he could talk.

"I'm sorry I messed up your shirt," Masayuki sniffled. Makoto chuckled lightly, glancing at the wet spot before shrugging.

"It's okay, I wasn't gonna wear it again anyway."

.

.

.

 _Death is more universal than life; everyone dies but not everyone lives._

 **Alan Sachs**

 **A/N:** Hi, I'm Fi, the author. Thank you guys for showing your interest in my story! I'd really appreciate it if you'd leave a review, and tell me what you think so far! I'm working to update every 2-3 weeks and will keep you posted on any changes.


End file.
